by Barbara Hart
‘But I thought you were very keen on the gorgeous Andrew? He leaves enough messages for you on our answering-machine…I imagined there was a hot romance going on…’
‘Well, there isn’t! Now, can we please change the subject? What flavour of stir-fry sauce do you want with this?’ She picked up two small jars and read the labels. ‘Black bean or sweet and sour?’
‘Sweet and sour,’ said Jane. ‘It reminds me of you and Andrew. First it was all sweet and now it seems to have gone sour! Hey!’ She ducked just in time to miss being struck by the oven glove thrown by Helen.
Two weeks later, Helen was on her own walking down Fifth Avenue, enjoying the bustling atmosphere and looking up from time to time at the patches of blue sky that were visible between the towering buildings.
She’d picked up a couple of good book bargains and was now heading for the area near Rockefeller Center and the Lower Plaza which in summer was turned into a sunken restaurant. She joined the tourists and sightseers leaning over the rails taking in the scene below. In the winter, Andrew told her, it was made into an ice rink. He’d promised her that if she was still in New York he’d take her there to skate on New Year’s Eve. Well, if she took this job she’d been offered she’d still be able to go skating there—never mind needing him to take her!
Clutching her books to her body, she had a moment’s light-headedness and thought she might fall over. It was the daydreaming that was playing tricks on her. She still hadn’t got Andrew out of her mind and part of her was beginning to weaken. If he came back from Chicago in a few months’ time, and if he appeared more ready for commitment, maybe they would be skating together on Rockefeller Plaza on New Year’s Eve after all.
She was startled from her reverie by a woman’s voice saying, ‘Is it you? Excuse me, but aren’t you the friend of Dr Henderson?’
She turned sharply to her right and saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar.
‘I do know Dr Henderson,’ Helen replied, adding anxiously, ‘Has anything happened to him? I’m sorry…I just can’t recall who you are.’
‘Oh, pardon me,’ said the woman. ‘I’m Mary Oberon. You and Dr Henderson very kindly came to my aid when I broke my wrist playing tennis a while back. My husband, Tim Oberon, is a lawyer and he knows your friend Dr Henderson professionally.’
Helen instantly remembered the woman and the unusual circumstances of her injury. She looked down at Mary’s wrist and saw it was strapped with bandaging.
‘The lady with suspected osteoporosis?’
‘That’s the one!’ She lifted her right arm slightly, holding it steady with her left hand. ‘Your diagnosis was correct, I’m afraid to say. So, no more tennis for me…and I’m on a regime of bone-strengthening medication, special diet and only very gentle exercise.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Helen sympathetically. ‘It’s a wretched condition and you’re very young to be affected.’
‘I’ll live with it!’ said Mary cheerfully. ‘I’ve got used to it now and I’m very glad of the warning. At least I can try and do something about it—hormones and all that stuff. The silly thing is, I was only playing tennis to keep my husband company. I don’t care too much for the game myself. I just didn’t want him playing tennis with all those glamorous young women in skimpy tennis dresses…but I guess I’ll just have to trust him.’
Mary laughed merrily but it sounded more like bravado to Helen. She joined in the laughter.
‘Dr Henderson is away in Chicago, so I hear,’ said Mary. ‘Tim mentioned it the other day. His law firm is connected to the Chicago law firm Dr Henderson is dealing with.’
This was news to Helen. Why on earth was Andrew ‘dealing with’ a law firm in Chicago?
‘So,’ Helen said lightly, ‘your husband’s a lawyer? I think I remember Dr Henderson mentioning something about that. What kind of work does he specialise in?’
‘Divorce,’ said Mary. ‘He’s one of the best, though I say it myself. Actually…’ she leaned nearer to Helen ‘…that’s how we met. A partner of his was handling my divorce from my first husband. Anyway, it’s lovely seeing you again, Dr?’
‘Blackburn,’ said Helen, trying to hide the shock she’d experienced on being told that Andrew was somehow involved with lawyers in Chicago, lawyers who specialised in divorce.
‘The plot thickens,’ said Jane when Helen told her of the conversation she’d had with Mary Oberon three days previously. Jane had been home to stay with her folks for the weekend and this was the first opportunity Helen had had to tell her the latest twist in the Andrew saga.
‘The word around the hospital,’ said Jane, ‘is that he had to go to Chicago for his career. He used to work there and we all imagined he’d been head-hunted and was made an offer he couldn’t refuse.’
The two girls were drinking ice-cold canned cola, with the air-conditioning on full and the windows tightly shut against the sticky heat of the humid August day.
‘Maybe he made up the career thing,’ said Helen. ‘Perhaps it was all a big excuse to hide the fact that he was getting a divorce.’
‘Why should he do that? There’s no shame in being divorced or getting divorced. Not in America…certainly not in New York.’
‘But that would make him out to be a liar,’ said Helen. ‘On our very first date I asked him if he was married or anything—meaning going steady, engaged or divorced or whatever—and he said, quite categorically, no. His exact words were “not even anything”.’
‘So, what else could it be?’ Jane pondered the puzzle.
‘I bet there’s a woman in there somewhere,’ said Helen bitterly. ‘The way he was terrified of getting involved with anyone else…as if that might be held against him.’
Jane sat up on the settee as if struck by another idea. ‘Could it be that he isn’t getting divorced, but that she is?’
‘Who?’
‘This other woman. The one he went back to Chicago for?’
The two women sat in silence as they worked out this new scenario.
‘You could be right, Jane. That would explain a lot. So, he’s fallen in love with this married woman who won’t leave her husband. Andrew moves to New York, hoping to forget about her. Then the woman decides she wants Andrew and will get a divorce after all.’
‘The bastard!’ said Jane, clutching Helen on the arm. ‘I know you loved him. You didn’t have to tell me that. And I know you’re trying to get over him, so I won’t mention his name ever again.’
They sat in companionable silence, each pretending not to notice the large tear that was trickling down Helen’s cheek.
‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ Helen said.
Jane looked at her expectantly.
‘I’m not staying on in New York after my research funding finishes. I’m not going to accept that job in sports medicine.’
‘Oh, Helen!’ Jane was surprised and upset by this revelation.
‘It won’t affect you because it’ll be after you’ve moved to the hospital in your home town…’
‘I was thinking of you, not me,’ said Jane. ‘You were so looking forward to staying on in New York, even without Andrew. That’s what you said. To hell with him, you said.’
Helen was silent for a what seemed an age, trying to find the right words.
‘I’ve got something else to tell you.’ She stood up and walked to the picture window with its dramatic view. ‘I’m pregnant.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘PREGNANT?’ Jane sounded incredulous. ‘How did that happen?’
Helen gave a hollow laugh. ‘Oh, the usual way.’
‘Well, I guessed as much as that! But you had me fooled…I didn’t know you and Andrew were, you know?’ Jane paused. ‘It is Andrew’s baby, I presume? I mean, you’re not having a secret affair with someone else?’
‘Of course not!’ retorted Helen. ‘And, yes, it is Andrew’s baby. It happened in Seattle. What I thought was going to be the start of a wonderful love affair turned out—f
or him—to be a one-night stand.’ Helen paused for a moment. ‘And before you ask, yes, we did use contraception!’
‘Must have failed, huh?’ said Jane, stating the obvious.
Helen shrugged. ‘I guess so.’ Her lip began to tremble.
‘Oh, honey, you poor lamb!’ Jane hugged her friend. After a few moments she said. ‘You were in Seattle in June, right?’
Helen nodded.
‘Nearly two months ago?’
She nodded again.
‘So it’s early days. You can still decide to…have it…or not to have it.’
Helen wiped away a couple of tears that had trick led down her cheeks. ‘I’ve been wrestling with that thought for the past month, ever since the day I missed my first period.’
‘You knew you were pregnant and you kept it to yourself?’
‘I didn’t know definitely,’ replied Helen. ‘I had my suspicions but I didn’t do the pregnancy test until this weekend. Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to face the reality of it until I’d come to a decision about my future with Andrew. I thought I might tell him, even though he was going to Chicago, but after meeting Mary Oberon and discovering that he’s involved with divorce lawyers I realised that there was no future for us after all.’
‘Are you going to have an abortion? No one would blame you if you did.’
Helen stiffened. ‘I couldn’t do it, Jane. I know I could never live with myself afterwards. When I saw the positive window show up on the test kit, all at once the baby became a reality. My baby…Andrew’s baby. You’re right, Jane, I did love him so much…and I know I could never get rid of any baby, let alone his baby. I expect you think I’m a silly sentimental fool.’ She wiped away more tears.
Jane hugged her tightly. ‘I don’t think you’re silly at all,’ she said. ‘I’d probably do the same thing myself.’
The two girls said nothing for a while, taking comfort from each other. Then Jane spoke.
‘Are you going to tell Andrew? Even if he’s involved with another woman, don’t you think he has the right to know he’s going to be a father?’
Helen pondered the question.
‘I’ll tell him one day,’ she said. ‘One day when I’ve got my own life in order and I can cope with his reaction.’
Jane was dubious. ‘Don’t you think you should tell him now, before the baby’s born? It might make a difference to how he views his present relationship.’
Helen looked down at her feet before facing her friend. ‘Well, he gave his phone number in Chicago in one of his messages on our answering-machine and actually I have tried phoning him on several occasions.’
‘And?’
‘I can never get through to him. I don’t want to leave a message on his answering-machine saying “I’m pregnant”, do I? And yesterday a woman answered his phone and gave me the distinct impression that she was intercepting his calls.’
Jane’s eyes widened. ‘Intercepting his calls? You mean, like finding out who’s calling and then saying he’s not in?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Do you think it was her? This divorcee woman?’
Helen shrugged again. ‘Who knows? So that seems to be the end of that, and it’s back home for me.’
Jane’s face dropped. ‘You don’t need to go home, honey. You can still work over here. What about that terrific job you were offered?’
Helen shook her head. ‘It’s no good, Jane. In order to be able to cope on my own with a baby I need to go back to Milchester where I’ve got all the back-up support from my family.’
Jane agreed reluctantly. ‘What did your mom say when you told her?’
Helen shifted uneasily on the couch.
‘I haven’t told her yet.’
Jane breathed in sharply, then gave a low whistle. ‘When will you?’
Helen considered it for a while then, checking her watch to work out the time difference, said, ‘I suppose there’s no time like the present.’
Helen’s mother, although she must have been shocked rigid by her daughter’s news, appeared calm and comforting at the other end of the phone.
‘Of course you must come home,’ she said. ‘We’ll always be here for you, Helen, you know that. And how exciting it will be to have a grandchild in the house. All our friends have grandchildren…we were beginning to feel left out.’
‘I won’t be a burden on you, Mum,’ Helen said, desperate to reassure her mother. ‘I’ll get work as a locum. There are bound to be lots of that kind of job going, and after the baby’s born I’ll pick up locum work again for a while until I can get my sports medicine career back on the road.’
She made her voice sound positive and upbeat, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else that this accidental baby wasn’t going to make any difference to her career plans. But both she and her mother knew that she was bluffing. Andrew’s baby was going to change her life—and her career prospects—and although she instinctively knew that she would love the baby with her whole heart, she also knew it heralded the end of this particular phase of her life.
The professor called Helen into his room a few days later.
‘I was wondering what your plans were for the future,’ he said. ‘The Moreton funding runs out at the end of this month, as you know, but I sincerely hope that we won’t be losing you back to the old country.’ He laughed as he used what he imagined to be a quaint turn of phrase. ‘You have done some remarkable research in the six months you’ve been here and I think you can still teach us “old colonials” a thing or two over here in the New World.’ He chuckled again at his bon mot.
‘I’m afraid I will be going back home, Professor,’ said Helen not daring to make eye contact with him.
‘But I’d heard on the grapevine that you’d been offered a job in sports medicine in New York. In my opinion that would appear to be the best move you could make at this point in your career.’
‘I was offered a job, but have decided to go back to England,’ said Helen. ‘Homesick, you know.’
‘Homesick for a young man, perhaps?’ enquired the professor.
Helen smiled politely, giving nothing away.
Helen was all packed up and ready to leave for the airport. She and Jane had said their farewells, exchanging addresses and promising to keep in touch.
Her flatmate was herself leaving New York the following month, returning to Iowa to take up a job in a large hospital near her home town. Looking at the note she’d been handed by Helen, she checked the details. ‘Your name is Blackburn, and your mother’s name is Talbot, right?’
‘That’s my stepfather’s name. I chose to keep my real father’s name.’
‘Now, you will let me know about the baby, won’t you?’ Jane’s lower lip began to tremble. ‘I feel so bad, not being around to help you through all this.’
‘It’s my decision,’ said Helen. ‘I’m a big girl and I know exactly what I’m getting myself into, so don’t be feeling sorry for me. And remember your promise?’
‘Promise?’
‘That you’ll be the godmother.’
‘You bet!’ enthused Jane. ‘And if I can’t get over in person we can do it by…What’s that thing called—poxy?’
Helen giggled. ‘I think you mean proxy.’
‘Knew it was something that sounded like a disease! On second thoughts I’ll get myself over there!’
Helen had been back in England a month when Andrew turned up at her apartment in New York. Now that the Chicago business was behind him, he was desperately keen to make contact with Helen again. He wished he’d been able to confide in her at the time, but he was convinced it would have been totally irresponsible of him to involve her in his problems.
He rang the buzzer and a man answered the intercom.
‘There’s no one here called Helen,’ said the disembodied voice. ‘We’ve just moved in. Maybe she was the previous occupant.’
‘What about her room-mate, Jane? Is she there?’ Andrew asked.
‘
No. It’s just guys in here now. No girls, I’m sorry to say.’
Andrew could hear a throaty male laugh over the intercom before it went dead.
‘Damn,’ he said, turning on his heel and hailing a cab.
Andrew found Professor Mulberry in his office at the Institute.
‘Dr Blackburn has finished her research at the Institute,’ he was told. ‘I’m surprised to learn that she did not keep you informed of her whereabouts.’
Pompous ass, thought Andrew, itching to respond with a cutting comment. He decided, however, that he’d better keep calm and not antagonise the wretched man.
‘Do you have a contact address you could let me have for her, please?’ he requested politely.
For at least a minute the professor remained silent, folding his hands together and adopting a far-away look.
‘I don’t think that would be appropriate, do you, Dr Henderson?’
‘Sorry? What do you mean, appropriate? I’m asking for the address of a medical colleague, not—’ He’d been about to add ‘not explicit nude photographs’, but he checked himself just in time.
‘I’m sure that if Dr Blackburn had wished you to have her forwarding address she would have given it to you herself.’ He fixed the younger man with an innocent stare.
He’s enjoying this, thought Andrew. Helen had told him of the fixation the professor had for her and how she’d always had to escape his unwanted attentions.
Mulberry was jealous of the obvious attraction Andrew and Helen had for each other and he was going to make him pay for it.
‘You could interpret it that way, Professor,’ said Andrew coolly. ‘But because I had to go to Chicago at short notice our lines must have got crossed…and, well, to be perfectly frank I thought she was still in New York. It never occurred to me that she might have gone…Where did you say she’d gone?’
‘I don’t recall saying where she’d gone.’
Hell! The man was infuriating!
‘I got a message that she’d tried to contact me in Chicago. It was most unfortunate that she wasn’t put through to me at the time.’
